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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23675332">Beauty In Simplicity</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetKimchii/pseuds/Reapers-Carino'>Reapers-Carino (SweetKimchii)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Overwatch (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Businessmen, Corporate Espionage, Deadlock Gang, Deadlock Jesse McCree, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fake Dating, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Hostess club, Love, Near Death Experiences, Reader-Insert, Rebellion, Romance, Slow Build, Slow Burn, True Love, Yakuza Genji Shimada, Yakuza Hanzo Shimada</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:21:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,636</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23675332</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetKimchii/pseuds/Reapers-Carino</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hanzo had worked tirelessly to prove himself, not only in the Shimada’s legitimate pursuits but their criminal ones as well. When an unexpected obstacle threatens to hurt his ascension to the top, he will stop at nothing to assure his plans succeed. This is how he found himself visiting the rooms of the illustrious Club Rosebud; Japan’s premier hostess club reserved strictly for the elite. His intentions were clear, a place away from prying eyes so that he may focus on completing his magnum opus. Being captured by the intrigue of you, one of their hostesses' however, was a pleasant surprise. </p><p>Will Hanzo allow himself to surrender into his emotions or will he follow the path that had been laid for him by the elders?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hanzo Shimada/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Stratagem</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Itadakimasu!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Genji’s tone was jovial, the excited grin on his face and sparkling eyes set on the large bowl of shoyu ramen in front of him. Giving a small ‘whoop’ of excitement as he pulled his chopsticks apart, he gave a quick, sympathetic glance to his older brother. Hanzo’s brow was furrowed, staring into his bowl of shio ramen with such a contemptuous look, Genji tempted to ask how the meal had offended him. Reluctantly, Hanzo finally picked up his own set of chopsticks, brusquely snapping them apart before murmuring a soft ‘itadakimasu’ and beginning to eat. Genji waited til he was a few bites in before goading him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sooo…?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hanzo’s eyes cut towards him, his frown somehow deepening as he bit into the chashu, a brief uptick in the corners of his lips indicating that the food was chipping away at the annoyance. Now was as good a time as any to keep prying; Hanzo’s love of good food had always been the younger brother’s way of cheering his brother up, alcohol coming in as a close second. As Hanzo’s eyes drifted back to the bowl, he grunted as Genji nudged him, wearily turning his gaze towards his younger sibling. Genji had taken several bites out of the tender pork belly from his own bowl and held it up so it looked like a goofy pork-based smile, wriggling his eyebrows at his brother playfully. Hanzo couldn’t help the choked off snort he made, the ridiculousness of the image drawing a small half smile onto his lips as he placed his chopsticks down on the tiny stand beside his bowl. Releasing a low growling sigh, Hanzo knew that Genji would not cease in his attempts to cheer him up until he finally spilled the beans on what was wrong. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let’s finish our meal and then we can talk”, he sighed, picking up his chopsticks once more and beginning to scarf down the noodles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hanzo couldn’t deny the delicious saltiness of the broth and the chewiness of the noodles were having an effect on him, slowly pulling him out of his dour mood and gently nudging him towards simply being cross. As he drank the last of the broth and bits of bean sprouts and garlic down, Hanzo allowed the warmth to spread throughout his body, breathing in deep and letting out a quiet exasperated sigh. Glancing to the side, his brother had drained both his broth and the sickeningly sweet melon soda he chose to go with it, looking at his brother looking at him with expectant puppy dog eyes. Tapping down on the urge to chuckle, Hanzo gave an over exaggerated sigh as he began his story.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I had a meeting with the </span>
  <em>
    <span>board</span>
  </em>
  <span> this morning…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Genji gave a brief suck of his teeth, a scowl tugging at his lips briefly before his smile returned, smaller and sympathetic. Neither one of them were strangers to the </span>
  <em>
    <span>board</span>
  </em>
  <span>, better known to them as the elders, the near omnipresent, insufferable hivemind of the Shimada-gumi. Gently patting his older brother on the shoulder, he gave it a brief good natured squeeze before responding.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So how did </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>go?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Earlier that day</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for taking the time to meet with me today.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hanzo’s voice was warm, yet professional, the light of the holoscreen gently bouncing off of his skin in the dimmed room. His expression was neutral but not blank, the ghost of a simpering smile tugging at the corners of his lips but never rising into a true one. Shoulders back, posture straight but not stiff, his whiskey brown eyes giving the room a brief once over before continuing. Fake pleasantries and niceties were expected of anyone coming before the board and he was no different, even as the heir to the Shimada Conglomerate. Although, a piece Hanzo wish he could have expected the same from the board. He could see several of the elders at the table flicking through the information transmitted to each of their datapads as they had entered the room, some actually reading the inscribed text while others stared at him, wrinkled faces set in a permanent frown. Years of training, school work and private lessons had led to this moment and he wasn’t going to let their lingering doubts of him deter him from victory. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Motioning at the screen, the beginning of his proposal popped up, simply titled ‘Partnership Program between Shimada Conglomerate and Caledonia, Co’. He heard the start of agitated murmurs begin around the table before motioning towards the screen once more and going to the next slide. It held images of both the Shimada Conglomerate’s main building in the heart of Hanamura and the shining new Ashe, Inc building located in Albuquerque, New Mexico. The next motion he made zoomed in on the section for Ashe, Inc. as he began to go through the history and details of the company.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Caledonia Co. was started five years ago and is a subsidiary of the larger Ashe Inc. located in Sante Fe”, Hanzo said simply, watching as the facts illuminated on the screen before disappearing and being replaced with information from the company’s annual financial report. “They are currently the quickest growing modular home providers within the American southwest with projected earnings for the year predicted to be just under one billion dollars. There also have been whispers of the company securing a US federal contract with the United States Department of Housing and Urban Development to create homes for those still impacted by the Omnic Crisis.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pausing briefly, Hanzo glanced over the crowd, a small root of uneasiness swiping at his heart as not one board member looked the least bit intrigued by the company. Still, Hanzo refused to succumb to this adversity, flicking to the next screen with bulleted and referential lines about the benefit of partnering with the North American company. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The Shimada modular manufacturing subsidiary, Sparrow is both well-known and highly respected within the Japanese market”, Hanzo started, showing the earnings for the company in the last three years before swiping and overlapping that with predicted earnings that could happen if they expanded into other markets. “But we are lacking any power in markets outside of Eastern Asia, meaning we are not realizing Sparrow’s full potential. It is estimated that despite our current hold on the market we may begin to experience 2 to 3 percent profit declines regularly over the next decade due to field competitors and possible housing declines.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We do have the opportunity to turn that around”, Hanzo stated as he again showed prospective growth if they partnered up, the charts morphing to show off his estimations. “By supplying the North American company with our modular manufactured materials, we have the potential to grow both companies profits as well as have an established name in North America backing the growth of the Sparrow company into that region.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The loss of profit statement had earned him a scoff or two, the older members stubbornly believing that the Shimada’s hold on the Japanese market was impervious to competition or outside influence. It had been the Shimada-gumi that had led the underground into helping Japan in its most dire hour during the war; providing housing, clothing, medicine, food and non-perishables as well as shelter across for their countrymen. Hanzo’s father and grandfather had spearheaded those projects almost twenty years ago, transforming the Shimada-gumi from small Yakuza-run businesses into the conglomerate powerhouse with hands in almost all facets of modern society. When the god program was eventually pushed back under sea, the Shimada’s and their supporters and allies were the one that rebuilt Japan and in turn had earned the idolatry of their countrymen. The Shimada name was looked at with adoration and reverence, the name conjuring up images of Japanese resilience and charity in the face of animosity. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And while all that was true, they forgot that a new generation of consumers was being born, ones that were not as indebted to the Shimada name as the prior generation. People born on the cusp of the war did grow up hearing of all of their good deeds, but their attentions were fickle and easily wavered to newer, bigger things. While they would have a market to sail on for some time, it was not enough to maintain the current state of affairs and so Hanzo would try and better them. Even if it meant further catering to their more immoral heartstrings. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Caledonia is also the largest black market weapon supplier in the entirety of North America”, he stated pointedly, pressing another button to fully lock down any possible leaks in the room. “Caledonia is headed by Elizabeth Ashe, daughter of the heads of Ashe, Inc. Although expunged and sealed, my sources were able to find that she had a record of gang activity that was previously connected to the Deathlock Gang. It appears her tenure with the gang never ended and she instead looked for clearer avenues in which to support and conduct business. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The surprised looks and murmurs that rippled through the room almost made Hanzo smile, the man relishing the ball of pride that fluttered in his chest as he went through the rest of the presentation showing the profits that could grow for both their legitimate and illegitimate markets. The final page was marked with a simple question mark, the lights in the room coming up as he looked over the faces of the elders before finally landing on his father’s. Sojiro was the expert at guarding his true emotions, his eyes locking with his son before snapping down to the datapad that was used for each board meeting. Encrypted and only accessible through both fingerprint and retinal scanning, a security measure that ensured if any information got out, it would have to have come from within. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you would like a more detailed breakdown”, he began, reaching at the front of the long boardroom table and pulling up his own datapad. “Please take a look through these pages. I am happy to answer any questions.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That won’t be necessary.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hanzo’s hands tightened around his datapad, lips ticking downward ever so slightly as his eyes pulled to Shoto Yamamoto. He was a portly balding older man seated near his father, his official title being Shimada’s general counsel. Unofficially, he was one of the saiko-komon of the Shimada-gumi, his father’s most trusted advisor and provider of counsel to the entire clan. The Yamamoto family’s allegiance went all the way back to the start of the 20th century, the two families intertwined by blood spilt and fraternity. With the exception of his father, Yamamoto held the biggest sway over the counsel and what they approved or rejected. One by one, Hanzo watched as the members turned their datapad’s off, eyes glancing at Hanzo before sliding back to Yamamoto. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The board </span>
  <em>
    <span>appreciates </span>
  </em>
  <span>the time you took to present this”, Yamamoto began, the condescending intonation on ‘appreciates’ making the back of Hanzo neck burn with annoyance. “But the Shimada Conglomerate doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>need </span>
  </em>
  <span>foreigners interfering with their affairs. Quite frankly, it’s disheartening to think your confidence, not only in the company, but also in our loyal consumers and stockholders, is so low.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“My confidence in the company has never waivered”, Hanzo snipped back, tone tight as he placed the datapad down. Yamamoto had swiped at the lowest hanging fruit; doubt for the company, and by extension the clan, was an offense that could be punishable by death or expulsion. The accusation was weak, at best, but it shined an ambivalent light on Hanzo’s intention with the project. “My family toiled for generations to build this business into the pinnacle that it is today. I do not want to see it diminish due to the inability to adapt. The risk we face if we do not acclimate to changing times is much higher than the loss we would suffer if we do not. As I stated, the numbers--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And as </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>said we do not need any interference from some ridiculous American company”, Yamamoto snipped before leaning as far forward as his stomach would allow. He steepled his fingers briefly as he looked around at other heads of the family, inclining his head as he looked at Sojiro. “I think I can speak for all of us when I say that while...ambitious, your presentation was wholly unnecessary. When and </span>
  <em>
    <span>if </span>
  </em>
  <span>we begin to lose profits, we will handle it as we always have. Internally. Is there anyone that objects to this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hanzo listened to the murmurs that rose up from other members, eyes darting over to the future CEO nervously before looking back to Sojiro and then Yamamoto. It felt clear who they felt they were loyal to, his allegiance, ideas and future position not yet strong enough to sway those who sat on the fence to his side. Hanzo’s lips pursed together tightly, the entire back of his neck flushing in anger. Hanzo intended for this project to be his magnum opus, an idea that would show that he was not only deserving but ready to take over the role of CEO when his father finally abdicated the position.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hanzo had worked tirelessly to prove that he was the heir the company deserved. He had gained his Masters in Business Administration by the time he was twenty-three, but the young scion had been interning and shadowing his father since the young age of sixteen. His father had made sure he had experienced every aspect of working for the conglomerate;  Hanzo shadowing mail clerks, administrative assistance, accountants, marketing assistants and even human resources. All this while still maintaining his grades in school, practicing several sports and martial arts with his brother and taking care of any </span>
  <em>
    <span>jobs </span>
  </em>
  <span> that the clan required. This wasn’t the first time that he had come to them with proposals; his partnership with several of the nation’s biggest trade schools providing their prefabrication and metal fabrication warehouses with a constant stream of skilled workers. It would seem, however, that he still had not earned the respect that he was owed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Taking in a slow breath, Hanzo gave a short, stiff bow as members of the board began to stand, the dozen men filtering out of the room slowly. Some stopped and gave Hanzo an apologetic pat on the shoulders, others shaking their head in unspoken disappointment.  The chagrin he felt was sickening; head racing as he tried to figure out a way to amend his blunder, to find the mistake or shortfalling he had made so he could correct it. Failure was not an option. He had worked too hard, done too much. His stomach tightened into a ball, the creep of anxiousness in his chest slowly squeezing at his lungs as he drew in a shuddering breath.  His eyes narrowed on the black marble floors, the swirling white in them blurring then vaguely coming back into focus.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hanzo.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hanzo’s eyes darted from the floor to his father, the breath caught in his throat coming out as a half-cough. Sojiro’s brow was minutely pinched, the concern he held for his son barely contained by the professionalism his position required. Standing straighter, Sojiro approached his son, gently placing a hand on his shoulder before motioning towards the door, clearly meaning to escort his son back to his office. A ghost of a smile touched Hanzo’s lips as he nodded, gathering his materials before starting towards the door, his father following close behind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sojiro had grown softer in his older years, his wife’s brush with death completely transforming him into a man that actually cared about his sons’ well-beings and not the future they could provide. Yua Shimada had been a safe space for both of the Shimada sons’, each finding brief reprieve in her presence before they were thrown back into training or schooling or dueling. She emphasized how she cared for their mental well-being first and foremost, that she would love them despite what they did for the clan. Often Genji took advantage of this unwavering love, hiding behind their mother when punishment was to be enforced, Hanzo often not wanting to burden his mother with any wrath incurred from his father, trainers or tutors. Hanzo often took the brunt of the anger for not ‘keeping his brother in line’, their younger years filled with quiet resentment and constant bickering. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took their mother falling ill and entering the hospital during Hanzo Masters program, the men of the family rushing to be at Yua’s side as she was diagnosed with stage two COPD. Her lung function had fallen to 60 percent, a respiratory infection combined with years of smoking leaving her lungs extremely vulnerable. While they wasted no expense in her care, the situation remained extremely precarious for an entire month, both Hanzo, Genji and their father all taking a leave of absence from school and employment so that they could be at her side. Each night when they left their mother’s side, Hanzo and Genji would seek one another's company; drinking, dueling, gaming, anything to get their minds off of her frail body laying in that bed. Their father would even occasionally join them, silent and watching but with no malice in his gaze. Reconciliation was slow but solidified the healthier Yua got, the trials of almost losing their matriarch creating a strong bond amongst them all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So Hanzo…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hanzo gave a small sigh as he came to a stop, his father taking a few more steps before turning to look at his son. Sojiro’s dark eyes were inquiring yet prying as he looked his son over, gently rubbing at his goatee as he studied the boy, Hanzo suddenly feeling like he was under a magnifying glass. Clearing his throat, Sojiro tilted his head towards the datapad that Hanzo held in his hand, Hanzo glancing downward before his brow furrowed as he looked up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you plan to do with that proposition of yours?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hanzo blinked once then twice before his incredulity wrinkled his brow even more, shaking his head and staring at his father in confusion. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean”, Hanzo inquired, tone bordering exasperation and his eyes bore into his father’s. “The board has rejected it, there is nothing I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can</span>
  </em>
  <span> do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Disappointing”, Sojiro sighed as he turned on his heel and began his walk back towards the offices. “I expected more from you…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>In The Present</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hanzo’s face burned with quiet shame, staring down hard at the black iced coffee Genji had ordered from him as he divulged the tale, the same uneasiness at failure creeping into his stomach. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well”, Genji questioned, stretching out the word and looking at his brother excitedly, the younger Shimada practically bouncing in his seat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well what”, Hanzo asked, brow furrowing deeper as his brother looked at him with wide, enthusiastic eyes. “The board shot down all my plans and father is disappointed in me, what else is there?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The words left an acrid taste in his mouth, lips ticking down even more as Genji rolled his eyes and grabbed his brother by the shoulders. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For someone so smart you can be so blind”, Genji sighed, rolling his eyes dramatically as Hanzo glared at him. He was unsure if his brother was trying to earn his ire but if he was, he was doing a good job at it. Forcing Hanzo to turn and look him directly in the eyes, Genji’s gaze grew slightly serious. “Didn’t you get what father was trying to tell you? Do it anyway! Fuck what the board says!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hanzo’s jaw dropped, mouth opening and closing several times before he found the words, confusion and disbelief fighting in equal measure.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck the board</span>
  </em>
  <span>”, Hanzo hissed out, hands closing then opening as if they held the words themselves. “I can’t just dismiss what the board says. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span>?! You expect me to just ignore the elders like y--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hanzo bit back his words but Genji rolled his eyes as he stared down his older sibling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like me”, Genji finished for him, cutting Hanzo off before he could interfect or apologize. “Actually yeah, stop letting them make every single decision for you, aniki! Aht aht, don’t interrupt! Brother, you always followed what the elders said but has any of that ever made you the least bit happy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not a yes Hanzo”, Genji muttered deadpan before releasing his brother. “Think of this like Go, Han. Go has fortresses and if you play smart, what seems like an impenetrable fortress can easily be flipped or wiped out. If you do this brother and plan it out and succeed? They won’t have any choice BUT to listen to you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hanzo mulled over this for several pregnant moments, lips pursed together as his mind raced over the audacious idea, warmth beginning to bloom in his chest as excitement trickled in. He may be able to pull this off. He would have no team or project manager, he wouldn’t be able to rely on the marketing department to make materials nor assistance to work alongside him. But if he took his time, he knew he could pull this off. Fate had been on Hanzo’s side when his father had him trained in every single aspect of the business, the man no expert but far from a greenhorn if the situation demanded it. If he could not only put together a business plan but also convince Ashe to meet with him in Japan, he could taste the sweet sweet flavor of not only success but he could begin to refute and rebuke the elders when the changes brought in profit. The only thing wrong…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As much as I would like that”, Hanzo began, his Genji’s eyes growing suspicious on him. “I cannot. There is no place I can go where Shimada eyes do not follow.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hanzo’s shoulders began to hunch, his head drooping before he felt Genji began to shake him, elation and mischief tainting his tone as Genji force his brother to look up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know just the place!”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Reconnaissance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’m up...I’m up!”</p><p> </p><p>Your words were slurred as you forced yourself to sit up, the weighted mat-alarm clock next to your bed waiting for you to step on it before the alarm would acquiesce. Years of waking up at six AM and you still couldn’t get used to it, going as far as buying the cute little rug that synced with your phone to physically force you out of bed.  Kicking your legs over, you practically melted onto the soft pink shag, toes curling lightly in the material as the alarm shut off. Dragging your feet, you lazily stretched your arms above your head until a satisfying pop in your shoulder and back sounded, a slow smile pulling at your lips as the smell of freshly brewed coffee began to fill your apartment. Pulling the oversized t-shirt you had worn to bed down, you dropped your arms as you made your way towards sweet ambrosia.</p><p> </p><p>The loft apartment you had purchased in Azabu-Jūban was a studio, an open air set up with two large windows that let in tons of natural light. Your bed was tucked into the back corner of the space, pillows stacked against the ‘brick’ wall the entire apartment was structured with, teal blanket thrown haphazardly off the side. Bookshelves filled with physical copies of novels were dotted around the apartment, various types of hanging plants drooping healthily down and around the many shelves in the large room. The floors were a light hardwood but warmed on a timer, the slight chill of March completely pushed out by the ambient warmth emanating through the floorboards. Even without the cold, there was no better way to start the day than with a hot cup of coffee. </p><p> </p><p>Carding a hand through your hair, you hummed contently as you watched steam lazily rise and curl from the mug that sat under the coffeemaker. While waking up early was a pain, coffee was there to soothe it away. Grabbing the half-full bottle of oat milk from the fridge, you leaned on the counter as you poured it into the mug, the dark void of the coffee becoming lighter and lighter. Five sugar cubes went in next, a small spoon stirring the concoction together until its color settled on a light tan, warmth emanating from the cup as you cradled it in your hands. Striding over to the large pink armchair set in front of the window, you pulled your legs underneath you as you sipped at the milky-sweet tea, watching as the sun began to peek over the tops of buildings and businesses. Taking a long sip of coffee, you hummed quietly as you held your wrist up, the smart watch projecting the time in bright blue lettering right over your skin. ‘06:34’. You had fifteen minutes to yourself before you needed to get dressed and ready to head into work. </p><p> </p><p>You took another long sip of the sweet brew before placing it on the coffee table next to you, tapping the watch several times until you made it to your timesheet for the week. 0800 sat next to T, TH, and Sa, ‘Sa’ glowing bolded pink to indicate that it was the current day of the week. It looked like it was your turn to be rotated onto the morning to late afternoon shift, meaning short coffee breaks, breakfasts and the possible lunch date or two would be lurking in your future. Sweeping your entire hand over the device, the screen shrinking until completely disappearing, grabbing your coffee and draining what was left in the mug. You had a couple of minutes to spare, but it couldn’t hurt to go in a little earlier. You’d get a little more time to do your hair and makeup and even the chance to try on multiple outfits before deciding on one for the day. </p><p> </p><p>Dropping the mug in the sink, you sped through the rest of your morning routine. Your hair sat in a messy bun on the top of your head, combed and brushed but it would be formally styled when you made it into work. The outfit you had picked out was fairly plain but comfortable; white leggings with an oversized, sky blue off-the-shoulder chenille sweater and navy blue sneakers. Street clothes were much easier for you to travel in since you often walked to work, Roppopongi and the Club only a twenty minute walk from your home. When it rained or temperatures fluctuated wildly, you’d catch a cab but today’s weather was perfect for a jog. Quickly pulling your knapsack onto your back, you made your way out the door, the automatic locks engaging as soon as you stepped away. Taking one last glance at your smart watch/holo-phone, 07:01 glowing up at you in blue lettering. Skipping down the steps you grinned, realizing you wouldn’t have to rush to make it there on time. </p><p><br/>🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸</p><p> </p><p>You rounded the corner onto the street that held the club, a small smile growing on your lips as it came into sight. No matter how many times you had walked past or entered, you adored the design of the building.  The building itself was discreet; a Vishkar commissioned project, sleek and modern white hard light with solid black privacy glass covering the outside, fitting in nicely with many of the other high rises and hotels in the area. Mamasan had balked at the thought of subscribing to the neon signs that often decorated the hostess and nightclubs in the area, instead vying for a hologram that projected the name in stylish cursive and katakana,  hard light roses and petals constantly falling down onto the sidewalk. It was chic yet discreet, beautiful and classy; the exact image mamasan wanted to convey and what kept their clients both happy and impressed. Club Rosebud location was a calculated decision on mamasan’s part, a street that existed an arms length away from the hustle and bustle of downtown, yet close to several embassies and five star hotels. The street was fairly calm; wide sidewalks leading to high-end cafes and bistros and a small two-lane road that had a small side lane that cars could take directly to the front of Rosebud. A side street led to a private entrance for those that required it, although it was most often used by the women that worked there as a quicker way to the back. </p><p> </p><p>Turning onto the side street, you stepped towards the private entrance, lifting your wrist to the panel next to the door. Your watch began to glow as did the panel, humming softly as it verified your identity using the NFC chip buried somewhere within the device. The door chimed slowly as it opened for you, a small smile creasing your lips as you were enveloped in the comfortable warmth of the building. The hall you were in was completely ‘behind the scenes’; walking completely straight would lead to the bar area of the club, the kitchen and stockroom were in a hall that hooked left. You, however, were taking the first turn on the right. </p><p> </p><p>This led you down a warmly underlit hallway that had three doors, all affectionately labelled with the words ‘Roses’ Only’ in english and katakana. You pressed your wristwatch against the door’s panel, watching as it scanned again before allowing you into the spacious dressing room that all of the Roses shared. The room was a softly lit explosion of pastels; walls a soft rosy pink, storage lockers a light sky blue and a dozen pearlescent cream vanities organized neatly in rows of six back to back. There were a few girls mulling around, some already dressed and working on hair, others still putting on their makeup or settling in. A goofy grin began to grow on your face as you locked eyes with Aya, the other woman standing up excitedly and waving at you.</p><p> </p><p>Rushing over, you pulled her in for a brief hug, the both of you grinning giddily before sitting down. Your vanities were stationed right next to one another, the both of you becoming thick as thieves due to proximity; the cordial co-worker relationship turning into a sisterly bond. The two of you would often find yourself recommending the other to potential clients or their friends, sharing jewelry and makeup and more often than not, doing one another's hair. Mamasan often had you entertain groups together due to your amicable nature and teamwork however, your shifts had been different for the last month or so, leaving you both sorely missing the other. </p><p> </p><p>“The tantalizing twosome is together again”, Aya proclaimed, lifting her blush brush in the air, her sugary high-pitched tone making you snort. Her voice was naturally higher than most but she had kicked it up an octave just for you.</p><p> </p><p>“The captivating couple concomitant one more”, you responded back, crossing your own blush brush with hers. </p><p> </p><p>The two of you held the pose for a beat before both of your shoulders began to shake and your hands dropped, peals of laughter filling your side of the room as you grinned before pressing a button on your vanity to pull your makeup from it’s hidden depths. Aya bumped your shoulder gently as you wiped your face with a cleansing wipe, leaning on you gently as she began to clip her hair up so she could start her own makeup. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m so glad you’re here today”, she practically sung, leaning back over and fully onto her own station chair, grabbing her facial moisturizing mist and applying a healthy mist all over her face. “Mama has us booked to work together!”</p><p> </p><p>“Really”, you questioned as you pushed the last ribbon-shaped makeup clip into your hair to keep back the last straggler from your bun. “Who’s having a party this early in the morning? It’s not even the holiday season…”</p><p> </p><p>While it wasn’t uncommon to have early clients, usually they only were entertained by one girl and more often than not would have requested a breakfast date. Meetings happened later in the morning or afternoon and company parties were almost always in the evenings or weekends. To have an event that needed two hostesses so early...was curious. Your interest was piqued. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah”, she squeaked excitedly, the small cordless fan she held making her voice hum as she quickly dried the mist. “My absolute <em> favorite </em>client is bringing in fresh meat! He must be related because their last names are the same, buuut that means you might have yourself a pretty tipper! Since I have such a generous and loving heart, I will bequeath him to you.”</p><p> </p><p>Sticking your tongue out at her you rolled your eyes before your brow pinched.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait is it Tsukiyono?”</p><p> </p><p>“What?! No!”</p><p> </p><p>“Harukawa?”</p><p> </p><p>“While he is very charitable with the pockets, he always smells like cigars. Nope!”</p><p> </p><p>“True...Shibata?”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re getting warmer~!”</p><p> </p><p>“Shimada?!”</p><p> </p><p>“Bingo”, she half giggled-half squealed, shaking her shoulders and tilting her head down at you wriggling her eyebrows. </p><p> </p><p>The Shimada Conglomerate was one of the, if not the most, reputable companies in Japan post-Omnic Crisis. Everyone from small children and rowdy teens, adults who had been born just shy of the Omnic Crisis and elders that lived through it had heard of their valiant deeds when imminent danger stood at Japan’s door. It was also no secret the billions of yen the Shimada family were currently worth; the publicly traded company a strong influence on the Nikkei 225. Genji had started visiting Club Rosebud almost five years ago, claiming he needed a safe refuge from prying eyes so that he could truly unwind and relax before he ‘lost it’. </p><p> </p><p>He was always kind and courteous, extremely flirtatious and he adored karaoke. He was a generous tipper and took care of whomever was entertaining him for the night,  buying her dinner, purchasing the more expensive drinks and even bringing presents whenever he could slip in. Aya had been his regular hostess for the last year or so and Genji had made it a point to align their schedules saying that the petite, curvy brunette had stolen his playboy heart. You had to wonder what family member he had to be dragging with him and if he was as attractive as the hazel-eyed wonder. </p><p> </p><p>“Well damn I guess I’m going to have to step it up a notch”, you murmured, more to yourself than her, rifling through your makeup supplies and grabbing a different set of blushes, highlighter and eyeshadow than you had previously selected. </p><p> </p><p>“Oooo”, Aya hummed, eyes lighting up with anticipation at the makeup you had pulled out. You were a bit more adventurous when it came to looks but typically knew how to pull them off. If what you had out was any indicator, your look should be a stunner.  “This is gonna be fun~!”</p><p><br/>🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸</p><p>
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</p><p>Hanzo rolled his shoulders at Genji’s private hovercar came to a stop, the one hand the rested on the glovebox  dropping to rub openly at his stomach. While he appreciated Genji volunteering to take his own car, the vehicle thoroughly guarded from any Shimada bugs or tracking devices, he abhorred his brother’s driving. Genji preferred to manually drive and his driving was synonymous to how he treated driving in video games; reckless, fast and terrifying. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh come on aniki”, Genji teased, patting his shoulder affably. Hanzo cut his eyes to glare at his brother only receiving a snort and eyeroll in return. “It’s not that bad! And I didn’t even hit anything this time!”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not congratulating you for doing the bare minimum of what you <em> should do </em>”, Hanzo hissed at him, no real venom behind his words, shaking his head as he opened the door to the vehicle. </p><p> </p><p>The early spring air was still crisp and mild, Hanzo taking in several gulps of air to calm the flipping in his stomach as his eyes studied his surroundings, hands smoothing down the navy blue button up and the dark grey suit jacket he wore. Despite his brother’s wild driving he was able to ascertain that they were heading into Roppongi, the flags of several embassies flashing by accompanied by several hotel names and restaurants that he frequented with clients when they came from outside of the region. He, however, could admit he was surprised that his brother’s ‘perfect place’ would be <em> this </em>. </p><p> </p><p>Hanzo’s eyes stared up at the club’s signage, ‘Club Rosebud’s name a glowing pink against a white backdrop, no glaring or visibility issues despite the morning sun shining down on it. There were even rose petals falling from the sign to the street and sidewalk below, leading into the entrance, Hanzo holding out his hand as one approached him, the pink petal dissolving into the glittering pixels before completely disappearing. He cave a low, noncommittal hum in his throat as he lowered his hand, glancing to the side to see Genji handing his keys to the Omnic manning valet. Catching his eye, Genji gave a brief thank you to the valet before walking back over to his breather and gently elbowing him.</p><p> </p><p>“So”, he asked openly, motioning at the building with his opposite arm. “Isn’t it great?”</p><p> </p><p>Hanzo did have to admit, this isn’t the worst idea his brother had come up with. Club Rosebud was well-known amongst the elite in Japan, their stringent background checks on all of their hostess, dedication to privacy to all of their clients, upscale facilities and 540,000 ¥ a month membership fee earning them a suitable reputation with the upper crust. Still, the location gave Hanzo pause, the man not knowing if he would be able to truly get any work done in the environment that they tailored. Hostess clubs were known for drinking, conversation and karaoke, even the nicer ones he had been dragged to in college and during work functions maintaining that same kind of ambiance. A small frown ticked down on his lips as he allowed Genji to lead him forward, reserving full judgement for when he actually saw the inside regardless of the uncertainty simmering in his belly.</p><p> </p><p>Hanzo allowed Genji to lead the way, mentally noting that his brother had gone above and beyond to set up everything for him; from transportation, to setting up a trial appointment and even dressing up nicely despite his insistence there was no dress code. The 26-year old was wearing one of his nicer suits; <span>a tailored deep black suit jacket and pants, the forest green button up blending in nicely.</span> He had even pulled out his cufflinks, golden dragons with emerald eyes, Hanzo wearing his own white gold ones with sapphire eyes. They had fallen into their habit of wearing their favorite colors and it would seem Genji had come ‘overdressed’ as not to feed into any other anxieties his older brother may be having. Despite all the animosity he had held for the man when they were younger and all of Genji’s childish ways, it seems they had both done a lot of growing over the last few years. </p><p> </p><p>A beat before Genji reached the door, it slid open, both brothers stepping out of the cool morning and into the warmth of the club. It appeared they separated the entrance from the rest of the building; the room fairly large and able to accommodate at least ten people comfortably, the floors a swirling, glowing white and deep pink. There were three black automatic doors that led into the actual club, Hanzo presumed, a small automated coatroom to the right and an Omnic with a name tag that read ‘Yosuke’, who both brothers before speaking.</p><p> </p><p>“Welcome to Club Rosebud Mr. Shimada and Mr. Shimada”, he said, his voice low and rumbling, left arm gently motioning across his body and towards the door in the middle. “Lady Ayane is waiting to greet inside. Please enjoy your stay.”</p><p> </p><p>The Omnic straightened up once more as Genji approached the door, shooing his brother back with one hand. Hanzo’s brow furrowed as he watched Genji stand stock straight, staring directly ahead as a brief soft blue light scanning him from the top of his head to the bottom of his shoes before a quiet automated ping sounded and the door in front of Genji opened. </p><p> </p><p>“Lady Ayane!”</p><p> </p><p>Hanzo silently sputtered as Genji rushed through the door, looking over to Yosuke and receiving a brief nod before confusedly following behind his brother. As soon as Hanzo stepped through the door is slid closed with a soft ‘whoosh’, closing off any currently known exits, the nervous uneasiness in Hanzo’s stomach blooming ever larger. He was trained to know all exits and to always have a way out, not knowing if he could leave out the same way or if there were any alternate routes left him feeling vulnerable. Hanzo’s eyes drifted over the room, beginning to analyze his surroundings. The room had a sophisticated ambiance that lauded itself as comfortable; light warm but frosted, the room well lit but neither too bright nor dark and seedy. The floor appeared to be hard light as well, twinkling lights accompanying steps as Hanzo walked further into the room.</p><p> </p><p>The soft scent of perfume hung in the air, constant yet not overpowering; base notes of vanilla, musk and amber were accompanied by notes of citrus and stone fruits. Plush fauteuil armchairs in colors of pink and key lime and powder blue and creamy peach were spaced around the room, some near wrap around black hard light tables, others stand alones with small cherry wood coffee tables placed in front of them. To the left of the room was a long bar counter, black marble with glittering gold flakes locked under a highly shined surface, ambient lighting shining beneath top shelf liquor and fine crystal glasses. Hanzo made a mental note to check them out, eyes catching sight of several bottles of whiskey that he had yet to try. Realizing he had yet to say anything to their host, the back of his neck burned in embarrassment, he stopped his wandering eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Clearing the non-existent discomfort from his throat his eyes focused in on Genji who was chummily clutching hands with a short, older woman. She stood no taller than 153 centimeters (5 feet) and was dressed in a hōmongi-style black kimono; soft pink and creamy yellow primroses and tea roses stretching from her feet to her back then over her left shoulder and to the edge of both sleeves, a yellow obi wrapped around her waist and held with a intricate knot. Her grey streaked hair was pulled into a low sweeping bun, a  clip of red-pink roses visible from the front holding everything together. </p><p> </p><p>As she and Genji continued to talk animatedly, Hanzo observed. Her gaze was affectionate yet sharp, focused on Genji yet not missing anything happening around her. She wore very traditional clothing and yet her mannerisms were nothing if contemporary; hands on hips, grabbing Genji’s chin and pinching his cheeks. It seemed Genji’s charismatic nature had even enamored him to her, the trust his brother openly displayed for the woman easing the knots in his stomach away. Ayane’s gaze drifted from Genji, a gentle smile touching her lips as the playful chiding in her tone gave way to warm professionality.</p><p> </p><p>“Mr. Shimada”, she said, stepping away from Genji, giving Hanzo a respectful bow that the man returned with one of her own. Straightening up, she took a few steps back so that Hanzo could stand beside his brother without feeling crowded. “Your brother has informed me of your interest in becoming a member. My name is Ayane Takahashi and I would like to say thank you for giving us the honor of your patronage. As your brother may have previously informed you privacy and discretion is of the utmost importance within our facility and we will do whatever it takes to ensure that we do not deviate from that value. As with all our newest patrons, we do like to give them a personal tour. Please follow me.”</p><p> </p><p>Ayane bowed once more before turning around smoothly, Genji spinning on his heel so he was walking backwards between the two, a Cheshire’s grin on his face. Hanzo rolled his eyes but a small smirk rested on his lips. It did appear that the calibur of this hostess club was much higher than he had been expecting; the professional tone that Ms. Takahashi had set combined with the entire ambiance of the building leaving him mildly impressed. Still, he would have to see more before he could determine if this would work, especially since he hadn’t spoken to a single hostess nor seen a single room as of yet. Genji’s eyes were narrowed as he studied his brother, briefly narrowing as if he read his siblings mind, silently sighing before turning to follow Ayane correctly. Stopping in the center of room beneath a raindrop chandelier, the three of them lightly illuminated by the bathed in the light. </p><p> </p><p>“This”, Ayane started, sweeping her arm across  the room to the right. “Is our general sitting room and bar. This is where most patrons enjoy their initial one on one meetings with our ladies, although we do have a number of private rooms available if that is your preference.”</p><p> </p><p>Hanzo noted that before Ayane swept her arm to the left where the bar was located. </p><p> </p><p>“And this is where our bar is located”, she answered, albeit that being obvious. “We are proud to share that is one of the best stocked bars in the area. However, if there is a particular wine or spirit in which you would like to partake that isn’t located here, we will be more than happy to acquire it for your next visitation. Additionally, we have a fully stocked and manned kitchen. There are menus available but we also will make any meal requested by any patron, within reason of course.”</p><p> </p><p>Hanzo hummed low, the sound of quiet approval earning a grin from Genji before his eyes danced over the room. While quite beautiful and modern, there was a question of security. Fine food and drink were nice but his biggest concerns were the security of the building if they would truly be able to guard against any Shimada spies or bugs the more scrupulous malaligned elders might send.</p><p> </p><p>“That is very impressive”, Hanzo openly admitted, holding his hand up to his brother before he could interrupt him, Genji’s mouth opening wide before clacking shut with a small pout. “But I would like to know more about the security of the building. Can my privacy truly be assured?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh Mr. Shimada we take security very seriously here”, Ayane said, turning around to face the man, a sage grin on her lips, eyes glimmering. Reaching into the sleeve of her kimono, she pulled out a small datapad, fingers gliding over the device in a practiced manner. “We cannot uphold privacy without superb security, Mr. Shimada, and as such we have taken every measure to ensure that no one or no thing can come within these walls without explicit permission. As such, every single guest, employee and Rosebud patron are run through a thorough background check before being accepted into the club.”</p><p> </p><p>Hanzo’s brow crinkled for a moment, Ayane chuckling in response. </p><p>
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</p><p>“Yes Mr. Shimada we have run yours and everything was fine”, she answered softly before continuing. “Once accepted they are then added into our internal system’s directory and have their biometrics authenticated to their own personal files. Those without biometric access into the club will not be allowed past the entrance and security is immediately notified of any outside presence. If there are any devices that are not added into our system or cleared with personnel at the entrance, they will short circuit. In short, if you are not an honored guest or a treasured employee, you are not permitted.”</p><p> </p><p>Hanzo nodded his head, obviously won over by her explanation, the woman tilting her head in thanks as she stashed the holopad back into her sleeve. She gave a brief ‘shall we’ before leading both brothers down a warmly lit hallway. There were about ten doors on either side as far as the hallways stretched until it split to the left and the right. Ayane walked half way down before stopping at the fourth door to the right. </p><p> </p><p>“All of our small private rooms are located on the first floor”, she motioned vaguely at the end of the hall. “The can accommodate between two and eight people comfortably. Our upper floor contains our four conference rooms, each can hold up to fifty people and come with full audio and visual support if necessary. The basement has forty karaoke booths, with a full library of hits both here and internationally.”</p><p> </p><p>Holding her wrist up to the small door, Ayane’s kimono rolled down slightly revealing a wristlet, lock on the door humming softly before sliding open. </p><p> </p><p>“These doors are secured as well”, she stated before stepping to the side and bowing to let the brothers go in first. “Only those who are scheduled to be in the room are allowed inside.”</p><p> </p><p>Genji tapped his brother on the small of his back, ushering him in first, Ayane and Genji following close. Two bright, avant garde chandeliers hung over a large square mahogany table; glasses and bottles of premium spring water sitting in front of a soft-looking, cream wrap around couch. A small bar was tucked into the corner, a small holopad denoting an automated bartending system. Across from the table was a large screen, obviously for projecting any presentations, pictures or videos to anyone who hooked up to their system. All in all, it was stylish if not a bit gaudy, but Hanzo could deal with that. The most important thing was a space to work and this more than provided that. </p><p> </p><p>Genji was already making a beeline towards the holopad near the bartending holopad, Ayane chuckling low in her throat as she moved forward and stood alongside Hanzo. </p><p> </p><p>“Mr. Shimada if it is not presumptuous of me I would like to confirm something”, Ayane began, looking up at the man, expression fairly guarded. Hanzo’s brow pinched again, suspicion crossing his features before he nodded, trying not to fidget under her gaze, earning a quiet laugh from a woman. “Oh I promise it is nothing scandalous or prying. I just wanted to confirm your reasons for joining as to pair you with the best Rose. “</p><p> </p><p>“Ah”, Hanzo breathed, his mind instantly conjuring up the alibi he and his brother had stirred up. “I am looking for companionship...while I am currently a bachelor, my status makes it challenging to find someone who is interested for non-manipulative reasons. It is quite...depressing to come home to an empty apartment and work so I would like to do that here. I would prefer someone that I can hold a conversation with on various topics; someone who is both intelligent and genuine.”</p><p> </p><p>Both Hanzo and Genji had learned that the best lies had elements of truths, Hanzo admittedly knowing that those were characteristics he wanted in a woman. He legitimately remained single not only because he found dating exhausted but also he had run into his fair string of heartbreak as well, gold diggers seeing him as their golden goose. While gender played no role in his attraction, it would be nice to have amicable conversation with a peer of the opposite sex without worrying about alternative motives. Nodding her head as she listened, Ayane’s smile grew bigger and bigger as she spoke, the wrinkles around her eyes crinkling as she gave a small relieved sigh. </p><p> </p><p>“Then I have picked the perfect girl for you.”</p>
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